There's a Class for This
by screaming-poetically
Summary: Fred takes classes to impress Hermione because he thinks he isn't smart enough for her; Hermione catches on.


**Title:** There's a Class for This  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Fred/Hermione.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>FRT.  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 1, 095  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Minor spoilers for DH.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Fred takes classes to impress Hermione because he thinks he isn't smart enough for her; Hermione catches on.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> The names of all characters contained herein are the property of JK Rowling. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

xxx

Fred leaves the shop every day around lunch and doesn't return until almost three o'clock. When Hermione asks, he merely says that he has business to attend to. Surely George knows what his twin is up to, but he won't tell Hermione.

She decides that this is a puzzle, and she will find out what he's up to, one way or another.

On Wednesday, Fred strikes up a conversation about runes, and whether or not Gladstone's method for translation is superior to Mugwarts'. She enjoys the conversation, but it doesn't sit well with her. She didn't know Fred knew about runes.

On Saturday, over lunch in the back room, Fred talks about the goblin rebellions of 1150 and whether or not, now that the war's over, the goblins will rebel again, seeking new rights and better freedoms. George stays politely silent, just eating his fish and chips, as Hermione and his twin talk for nearly an hour. He watches Fred leave, and sees the look of concern on the witch's face.

This continues for several weeks.

One Sunday, over brunch at the Burrow, he talks to Hermione about Hogwarts, A History. He asks about the mystery of Gryffindor's death, about the supposed relationship between Rowena and Salazar. He asks about enchantments that lie on the castle, and wonders if some of them could be made use of for the shop. Hermione is cautious in her answers, and she's watching Fred keenly.

He hasn't been the same. Less jokes, more serious conversations about droll academia and spells she knows he has no interest in.

She corners him outside in the garden an hour later while the rest of the Weasley's, and Harry, are still inside having a heated debate about the future of Quidditch.

"What are you doing, Fred Weasley?"

His hands are shoved deep into his trouser pockets, a corduroy jacket covering up the suspenders he's taken to wearing with his button-down shirts. He actually looks respectable, like someone she could take home to her parents — if she still had them, at least. He looks very handsome, too, and she's surprised she thought of it. When did she start thinking of Fred as _handsome, as someone to take home to her parents?_

He looks up at her, rather shiftily, and shrugs. "Er…taking some air in the garden?"

"There's plenty of air inside," she counters, her arms folding across her chest. She looks at him evenly, and the silence stretches between them as he starts to squirm.

"You've been acting oddly lately, and I'm not sure why. Talking about runes, and goblin rebellions, and obscure spells. It's not like you."

"I thought you liked talking about those things?" he replies quickly. "Talking about books and history."

He answered too quick, she thinks. Fred is up to something, he always was.

"Yes," she says slowly, "I do. Sometimes, at least. You just…never seemed interested before. Why now?"

Fred sighs, carding a hand through his hair. He looks like he's getting up the nerve to say something, so she merely waits.

"Truth is, Hermione, I'm pretty sure that I fancy you. Well, more than pretty sure. I definitely fancy you. I'm — I'm over the moon, absolutely mad for you. And I know that I'm not the type of guy you'd usually go for. Not a famous Quidditch player, like Krum, not a particularly charming bloke, either, or terribly smart. At least, not smart enough for you. So I thought if I took some classes, got to learning about the things you like, maybe you'd see me differently. Might even like me."

Fred's ears turn a brilliant red, and his head bowed, his eyes focused on the ground. Looking everywhere but at her.

She's not sure what to say; she has never expected _this, of all things. "So that's where you've been going, taking classes?"_

Fred nods. "At Hogwarts. I apparate into Hogsmeade and walk up to the castle in time for lessons."

Her hands twist together. She is deeply uncomfortable, and deeply aware of her own body and how close she's standing to the Weasley twin. "You don't have to do that," she whispers finally.

He looks up, surprised, and he looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Take classes to impress me. I think you're brilliant even if you don't know about goblins or runes. You… you started a business with your brother when you were only just of age. You invent these things, these wonderful, amazing products, and you use extremely clever magic. Fred," she continues softly, "you impress me every day, and I'm pretty sure that I fancy you, too."

For a moment, he looks as if he doesn't believe it, not a single word. His mouth moves as though to say something, but he always decides against it. Finally, he starts to smile, and continues until a grin has taken over his entire face, and his eyes are shining.

"You're not having me on, are you?" he says, moving closer to her, close enough that their bodies are just barely touching. His hands are out of his pockets now, and she can see that they're itching to touch her.

"No. You know I'm bad at making jokes," she says lightly, and smiles tentatively at him. His hands find hers, their fingers intertwining. It feels, surprisingly, right.

"Actually," Fred replies, with an air of confidentiality, "I think you're quite funny."

And with that, he leans down to kiss her, moving hesitantly as if he thinks she'll move away. She doesn't, and they ignore the whistles from the doorway of the Burrow, where Charlie and Bill and George are watching, and probably have been for quite some time.


End file.
